Happy Holidays
by Briticism
Summary: The Christmas Blues had set in for Tim and Gavin. Until they make an effort. [The Brittas Empire] Slash in that it contains a canon mm relationship. The Brittas Empire is a 90s Britcom starring Chris Barrie as Mr Brittas, Tim and Gavin's boss. Fluffy.


Disclaimer: Tim, Gavin, and The Brittas Empire are not mine. I make no profit from this story.

A/N: This contains a homosexual relationship, that is canon to the tv show The Brittas Empire. This story was written as a Christmas present to the Brittas Empire fan forum. I hope that you enjoy it, all reviews welcome, though flames will be ignored, as per usual.

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"Happy Holidays" is inaccurate. He'd always thought that. He thought it now as he peeled and sliced his way through what seemed like a million potatoes, and stressed about if the presents he was giving would be good enough. It'd taken him days to get the presents he did have, and it didn't seem quite a large enough number. But the crowds had forced him home, their pushing and shoving and yelling and their trolleys piled high with Segas and My Little Ponies and turkeys and hams and packets of suet, and the stench of damp clothes in confined places. He shuddered at the thought of it. It had never been quite his thing. Tim on the other hand had simply ducked his head and pushed his way through, and managed to survive in the torrent for several hours, rather than cowering on the edge. He'd emerged actually smiling!

Not that Tim was immune to Christmas sulks. He would be freaking out that yet again he'd not done enough in the year. Yelling because Gavin wasn't doing things 'right'. Crying because he was stressed over the work there was to do still at the leisure centre even in the Christmas season. They'd spent many hours in the past few weeks upset, and then even more hours holding each other and making it better again.

Gavin glanced over to Tim's list written on the whiteboard on the back of the kitchen door. His list of 'to dos' that he'd written up in a panic when he'd realised that the year was almost over. It had everything from 'empty out wardrobe', 'learn something new', 'figure out VCR timer', 'take more pictures' to 'learn to tango' to 'write poetry'. Gavin hated how bad Tim felt at this time of year, how he would worry about wasting his life. Gavin made a mental note that he would have to remember to write the list down on paper and then erase it before the company arrived. He didn't think Tim's mother would be too impressed with number ten on the list, "Break record number of times in day". He blushed. The woman wasn't stupid, she'd figure out what that meant.

If she got a chance she'd also probably nag them about having a tidier flat, or buying a house, or getting better jobs, or going to see her more, or how they should roast the potatoes. They'd all already made the pudding six weeks before, it had been hanging in their pantry since then. What was supposed to be family tradition, a happy moment, had had them pushed aside. Gavin more than Tim, but Tim too. He wasn't allowed to help any more than Gavin was, but at least he could talk fairly comfortably. And by 'they' made the pudding, it was really 'she'. They'd not really been allowed to do much other than making sure all the sultanas and currants and raisins weren't in clumps so that she could properly mix it in with everything else, while she chattered away to Tim in her slight German accent.

She wasn't unfriendly, it just gave Gavin a pang of hurt that he'd never had that with his mother. And it hurt that Tim's mother would control them. And it hurt him to see Tim go running if she called, but then stress about it later. And it hurt that he was even feeling jealous of them at all. She was his mother for goodness sakes! Of course they would have a bond. And he had Tim all the rest of the time. However it just was yet another tension to do with the Christmas season. He pushed the thought of parents out of his mind. Other than the pudding, there was just so much more to do! He looked at his watch. People would be arriving in only a few hours! He peeled faster.

Finally he finished, and left to go to the bathroom to wash his hands properly rather than just rinse at the kitchen sink. He stepped through the kitchen door, and after seeing a brief blur of a dark green jumper, found himself pressed up against the wall with one hand, and enthusiastic and slightly chilly lips on his, the hand swapping from his chest to the back of his neck, slightly squeezing. Gavin pulled him close, wrapped his arms around his waist, relaxed into him. Tim tasted and smelt of gingerbread. Eventually Tim pulled away, but remained in Gavin's arms. Gavin looked down at him, vision slightly blurred.

"What was that for?" he asked, his voice quiet.

Tim grinned, a smile that seemed to light up his whole face. And he brought up his other hand, the hand he hadn't been using to touch Gavin. "Look what I found." In his hand was mistletoe.

"Where did you get that?" A smile had developed on Gavin's face, almost echoing Tim's.

Tim gestured towards the front door with his head. "That tree in the garden. It's been there for months, I've just been waiting til now to cut it."

"You know…" Gavin whispered. "You're supposed to kiss _under_ the mistletoe." His fingers traced circles on Tim's back.

"It works if I'm holding it as well." Tim nodded as if it was fact.  
"Says who?"

"Says me. Or, you can get the stepladder and attach it to the ceiling."

Gavin pulled him closer again, hands clasped at the small of Tim's back. "I think I'll just believe you." He ducked his head and kissed him, kissed slowly, until they lost all sense of time, and found that the wall was required to stop them toppling.

Their novelty cuckoo clock chimed, and they stopped at the last chime, holding hands briefly, knowing that the doorbell would be ringing not too far in the future. And they still hadn't opened their presents.

Gavin looked beyond Tim, and felt a slight rush. While he'd been peeling, Tim had tidied, set the table on a Christmassy red table cloth, turned on the lights on the Christmas tree, and put his presents underneath. He'd also set out a plate of gingerbread. Gavin didn't even know he'd bought it. And apparently, he'd gone out into the cold to cut down mistletoe just so that he could have a romantic excuse to kiss him up against a wall. Tim was standing by the tree now, smiling, the now slightly crushed mistletoe still in his hand. Suddenly, all the stress melted away.

Better late than never.

It was simple, and it was easy. An easy solution, but it cheered him. Christmas was here, and it was here if he was stressing or not. And Tim was happy and by his side and currently not upset about anything, just calling him to presents and baked goods and promising to help him finish cooking soon so that Gavin could ring his own mother, and Tim wasn't even worried that his jumper now smelt slightly of potatoes. He was with who he loved. Gavin smiled and sat beside him on the floor. And if the holidays weren't happy, at least Christmas Day could be nice.

And they still had almost a week to work on Tim's list.


End file.
